


A Fireside Chat

by CaseOpen_CaseShut



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotions, Hurt/Comfort, I am legally obligated to play into Zuko's emo side, M/M, Trying to be subtle lmao, Vulnerability, Will this play into a longer narrative? Who knows!, he's just so emo. it's kind of hilarious ngl, i love him tho
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-28
Updated: 2020-06-28
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:47:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24959365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaseOpen_CaseShut/pseuds/CaseOpen_CaseShut
Summary: Sokka’s expression turns cloudy.“When?”He’s being altogether too nice about this. It’s making Zuko feel vulnerable. He makes sure the next thing he says is a little colder.“Well, I don’t… he didn’t succeed. And I don’t really know about the first time."Sokka’s eyes get harder. There it is. The fight he’s looking for. Hopefully Sokka will tell him off for his tone and then give it up. and then Zuko can spend a few hours pacing around with adrenalin and memories before he’s finally able to get any sleep.“When?”And, well, that’s not the response he expected.(A nighttime conversation.)
Relationships: Sokka & Zuko (Avatar), Sokka/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 65
Kudos: 1197





	A Fireside Chat

**Author's Note:**

> The title is not ideal, but I had no ideas, so... sue me. It's accurate, and it's a vaguely political reference, and who wouldn't love that?
> 
> Set in the Western Air Temple between Boiling Rock and Western Raiders.

“Thanks for having my back back there,” Sokka says.

Zuko looks at him out of the corner of his eye. Sokka, who’s sitting a few feet on his right, is staring into the fire, the flames making the shadow on his face shift and morph.

Fire has a way of doing that. Making things seem inconstant. 

“It was no problem. I’m glad we got out.”

Sokka smiles.

“Me too. But really, thank you. It means a lot to have my dad and Suki back. I couldn’t have done it without you.”

Zuko hums and pulls his legs up to where he can rest his chin on them, looking at the flames—lets the fire sear itself into his retinas. 

Sometimes it’s hard to look at fire, now. Ever since he burned Toph’s feet… Well, if he’s honest, it was before that. Maybe years before that. Maybe since he started his hunt for the avatar. Maybe… maybe ever since he saw a flame from the inside. 

That Agni Kai.

If he’s being honest, that’s always what he sees when he closes his eyes. The brightness of his father’s flame. When he was still on the boat, it was a reason to fight. A reason to stay angry, stay hungry. But ever since he cut his hair, it’s haunted him more and more. He’d rationalized it for so long. Back then—so recently—he’d thought of it as something more, something symbolic. He’d thought of it as a… mandate. From his father. A plea to do better, and an incentive to regain his honor. 

But when he cut his hair, and with it, his unconditional loyalty, little by little, the part of him that thought it meant something, that had twisted it into some opportunity for redemption, slowly shriveled up and died. At some point—which he can’t exactly identify—all that was left was the pain. Not just of the physical event, but of… well, everything. The whole of the last few years.

He can feel Sokka looking at him, so he turns his head a little to the right. Sokka is regarding him with a variation of that “thoughtful” expression he has—the one he gets when he’s about to make a plan. This one is less pointed, and in a weird way, it makes Zuko feel a little warm.

“What are you thinking about?” Sokka asks him, voice soft.

And Zuko tells him the truth, not really knowing why. 

“My father.”

“Oh,” Sokka says. And then, after a pause, “What was it like?”

He says it like maybe he shouldn’t be asking it, like he’s a little worried that Zuko will go off on him or something.

“What?” He asks, not sure how much Sokka knows. Not sure what he’s willing to share.

“Growing up… there. Wanting to be the next Fire Lord.”

And you know what? Fuck it. He’ll tell him something. Not all of it, but… In some way, he feels like he’s got something on his chest, and he feels kind of… well, weirdly enough, he feels safe. Or, at least, safer than he usually does.

Zuko thinks back, and then speaks, consciously keeping his tone casual.

“It was nice, sometimes. I spent a lot of time with my mother… We had this turtle duck pond and she’d feed them seeds with me. The rest…” he shrugs. “Wasn’t as nice."

Sokka smiles. “I mean, you were growing up with Azula—that can’t have been too pleasant.”

Zuko laughs, but feels a little guilty. “Yeah.”

And then he thinks of his sister as a little kid, smiling her vicious little smile as she watched Mai pull him away or laughing with Ty Lee. 

"She wasn’t always this bad,” he tells Sokka.

“Really?” Sokka asks, like he can’t believe it. 

Even though he’s currently finding it relatively easy to share, Zuko can’t help but feel a weird little bubble of protectiveness rise in his chest over Azula.

“Yeah,” he says, a little more forcefully than he intended, then softens. “I feel bad for her, sometimes.”

Sokka does not seem to get it. He furrows his forehead in a way that would be comical if Zuko didn’t find the topic of conversation so… emotionally difficult.

“She’s tried to kill us, like, seven times!”

“You’ve never met my father.”

That makes Sokka stop and look at him again.

“Why? What did he do?”

And he’s surprised they’re talking about this, especially so casually, because it’s not usually something he talks about. Ever. He guesses he could have brought it up with Mai, but it was always kind of assumed with his sister’s little clique. And the avatar and his friends… as much as he’s gotten to know them, he hasn’t ended up talking all that much. Most of them still give him a pretty wide berth in terms of the day-to-day. 

Well, except for Toph, who he’s pretty sure is making a show of being completely unperturbed by his presence, and Aang, who probably doesn’t have a resentful bone in his body. But it’s not like he would talk to them—a much as they would probably resent it, he sees them as kids. Powerful kids, sure, but they’re... what? Twelve? He would never tell them anything he would think might be a burden. Fighting a corrupt, genocidal empire is enough for them to carry.

And fuck, that makes him feel guilty. Because _he's_ a symbol of that empire.

“He just… It was hard. Growing up with him. It was always a competition, and I think it kind of… ruined her. Made her the way she is. She really, really bought into it.”

“But you’re not like that.”

“Yeah, but I was always different from her,” he kind of scoffs. “Worse, mostly."

A quiet “oh” falls out of Sokka’s mouth, and Zuko cannot believe he just admitted that. That he’s always been worse than his sister. That should definitely inspire the group to put their confidence in him… but then again, they’ve seen him against her. They know that he’s no match. The thought stirs up a wave of insecurity, but Sokka doesn’t seem ready to let the subject drop.

“What do you mean you always lost?” He asks, eyes focused on Zuko, who decides that there’s no non-awkward way for him to not turn to face the guy, but also pretty inconveniently feels his cheeks get a little hot.

“I wasn’t talented like her. She was always better with fire—you’ve seen her, I mean… she’s just… She was the golden child, you know? She could do no wrong in my father’s eyes. She made it so easy or him to love her. She was loyal and beautiful and talented, and I was just…” he gives a shrug, "around.”

Sokka narrows his eyes, like a lack of fatherly love is a terribly foreign concept to him. Zuko figures it probably is—he’s seen the guy interact with his and Katara's father. Zuko is used to pretending like their little family scene doesn’t make him feel anything at all, even though it does. It kind of makes him feel lightheaded, but he can’t figure out what emotions it brings up in him. He feels something hot and sharp, but there’s also something… heavy. It makes him want to wring himself out like a scarf.

“But… he loved you, right?” Sokka says, like a kid trying to preserve his belief in some arcane holiday. "Somehow? Like, maybe you couldn’t see it—“

Zuko feels an irrational burst of rage.

“I don’t know,” he says, coldly.

Sokka, who seems a little lost in his own words, is still talking. "I just can’t believe that he would—“

And obviously this is getting nowhere with him, and Zuko kind of just wants to destroy some of this… stupid naivety. And maybe he wants to tell Sokka that will get him to understand, or at least wound Sokka’s ideas of fatherly goodness. And he’d be lying if jealousy weren’t part of it, but seriously?

“He tried to kill me, okay?” He says, because it’s the only thing he can think of in the moment.

Sokka’s previos expression of mild concern and disbelief morphs into one of quiet shock. Zuko realizes he’s said it louder than he meant to. He feels a little satisfied, but that quickly disappears when he realizes that now he’s sort of obligated to explain.

“What?”

“Yeah,” Zuko admits. And then, “Twice.”

He didn’t need to tell him that it was twice.

But you know what? At this point, fuck it! He’s already mostly told him. Might as well continue using his own personal suffering hammer the injustices of the world into Sokka’s head.

Sokka’s expression turns cloudy.

“When?”

He’s being altogether too nice about this. It’s making Zuko feel vulnerable. He makes sure the next thing he says is a little colder.

“Well, I don’t… he didn’t succeed. And I don’t really know much about the first time."

Sokka’s eyes get harder. There it is. The fight he’s looking for. Hopefully Sokka will tell him off for his tone and then give it up. and then Zuko can spend a few hours pacing around with adrenalin and memories before he’s finally able to get any sleep.

“When?”

And, well, that’s not the response he expected.

“Why do you want to know?” He asks Sokka, before he can think about it. Sokka just looks back at him with an expression that makes him feel like he’s being probed or something, and, just to fill the silence...

“The first time, I was eleven,” he says, not pausing as Sokka takes a sharp inhale when he hears the age. “I don’t know that much about that one—only that Azula said she heard my father telling my grandfather that he was willing to kill me to take my uncle’s place as successor to the throne. I think my mother saved me, that time—she woke me up that night to say goodbye and was gone the next morning.”

Sokka seems stunned enough by this to not make a comment—his stupid blue eyes have gotten softer—but Zuko presses on. Now that he’s talking about it, it feels easier to just keep going until he hits the end. But he’s also getting a little worried, because he’s starting to feel… unstable, or something, but not in an angry way, so he turns to the fire and keeps his voice monotone.

“The second time I was thirteen. I asked my uncle to enter a war meeting, and I said something wrong, and my father challenged me to an Agni Kai. A duel. That’s…”

“ _That’s_ how you got your scar,” Sokka says, voice lowered almost to a whisper. Like he’s trying to be gentle. Zuko hates it.

He goes to make a scathing reply so that Sokka stops pitying him, but for some reason, his throat feels tight.

“Yeah,” he manages, feeling his eyes burn a little, and… _spirits_ , this is embarrassing, because nobody is allowed to see him upset, least of all Sokka, because… fuck. He wants Sokka to respect him, and now Sokka can tell that he’s weaker than he lets on, and… and...

Even though he’s turned his head away, he can sense it as Sokka looks at him for a few seconds, seemingly at a little bit of a loss, and then pulls himself together enough to make an attempt at a response.

“I’m sorry,” Sokka says quietly. 

Zuko wants to reply, brush it off, tell him it’s not his fault in a way that’s just bristly enough to make Sokka stop looking at him like he can tell what Zuko is feeling and go away or get angry or something that will end the conversation or turn it into a confrontation, but _spirits_ , his eyes are _embarrassingly_ wet at this point and he’s getting increasingly worried that any words he tries to spit out will come out more like a sob, so he doesn’t say anything, and then Sokka, the idiot, scoots closer to him, reaching his arms out, like—

“Can I?” Sokka asks.

Zuko leans into him almost involuntarily, and Sokka wraps his arms around him from the side, tight. Zuko presses his face into his knees, which are still, conveniently, at his chin, and can’t stop a weird little whimpering noise from coming from the back of his throat, at which Sokka gives a soft little “hey” which Zuko can feel vibrating from Sokka’s chest into his, and then Sokka moves so that Zuko’s sort of between Sokka’s legs and they’re facing each other and by the time he starts _really_ sobbing at least he’s able to muffle it in Sokka’s shoulder.

It takes an embarrassing long few minutes of full sobbing before he’s able remember where he is and to calm himself down enough to start to take anything in, but once he gets to the point that he can actually comprehend Sokka’s hand on his back or the fact that Sokka is gently humming and that he can feel it, he’s kind of past the point of feeling embarrassed. Or well, he’s not—he definitely still feels bad, but he’s also fucking exhausted and still sobbing a little, even if it’s more spaced out, so he decides that it’s not the end of the world if he stays here, hugging Sokka, which feels weirdly good. Which is not something he would ever admit to himself under normal circumstances, but the whole conversation has been so patently abnormal that he decides he can at least acknowledge it without making it all that much weirder for himself.

When he finally pulls back to wipe his nose on his own sleeve, Sokka’s looking at him with an expression that’s so genuinely concerned that Zuko decides that he actually does feel embarrassed all over again.

“Sorry,” he says, and it sounds so absolutely ridiculous. Sniffly. He is _not_ supposed to be sniffly.

“It’s fine,” Sokka says, giving a little laugh like it’s no big deal “Are you okay?”

Before Zuko can reply that he’s fine, thanks, Sokka’s backtracking. “Wait. Stupid question.”

It’s Zuko’s turn to laugh (much more wetly than Sokka), and then he fails at holding back another sob, at which Sokka touches him in a way that, miraculously, perfectly communicates that Zuko is allowed to drop back onto his shoulder, which he, for some reason, does, suddenly very aware of the fact that there’s a wet patch on Sokka’s collarbone.

“Sorry,” he says again, muffled in Sokka’s shirt. This time, Sokka just moves the hand that’s on Zuko’s back in response, and it’s a little awkward, but somehow, that makes him feel a little better.

Sokka is quiet for another minute, and Zuko is a little too aware of Sokka rubbing his back as he rides out another wave of sobs. It’s definitely slowing down. Thank Agni.

“Are you tired?” Sokka says, quietly

And yes, he definitely is, and his traitorous eyes are only leaking a little at this point, so he deems it safe to pull back fully before giving a sort-of-raspy “yes”.

Sokka sizes him up. “Do you want to sleep with me?”

Zuko guesses that it’s Sokka's turn to be embarrassed, because once he realizes what he just said he turns bright red and tries to sputter out qualifying statements, and it’s nice to know that he’s not the only one thrown off balance by this whole situation.

“Yeah,” he says, sort of weirdly grateful that Sokka asked, because he’s kind of gotten rapidly used to the other guy’s presence and he’s feeling kind of unstable and, honestly, it’s sad enough going to sleep alone in some random room in an abandoned temple on a normal night where he hasn't just spilled his guts to a guy he's only just begun to consider a friend.

“Okay,” Sokka says, still a little red and unsure. “I’m going to change… meet me back out here?”

He goes to change into sleeping clothes, and comes back out to drop his bedroll near where Sokka’s rolling out his own. He lies down without bothering to really arrange it nicely, his eyes suddenly heavy, and despite the fact that he’s pretty sure he’s never going to live this down, he’s asleep almost as soon as his head hits his pillow. 

The last thing he notices before he’s fully out is Sokka shifting just a little closer, right to where he can faintly feel quiet breath on the back of his neck.

**Author's Note:**

> And that was my first time writing (or, well... finishing and publishing) fanfiction! I've been reading for a while, but I couldn't find as much as I wanted with these two, so I took a stab at it. Let me know if I was successful or not. I really hope I used the in-world language all right--sometimes usage without awkwardness can be an issue with that, and I haven't read quite enough of the world to figure out an agreed-upon context.
> 
> I'm thinking about turning this into part of a longer work. This would end up a prologue to a slow-burn-type fic. I might end up writing it, might not--but if anyone would be at all interested in reading it based on this thing, I would appreciate knowing that! It would just be all the more reason to write it. 
> 
> If you are so compelled, please comment! Feedback and feelings are so, so welcome!
> 
> (Edit 7/19/2020-- I'm so surprised about how much love this fic has gotten! Thank you all so much for reading. Since a few people indicated they were interested, I've posted the first chapter of a slow burn fic set after the end of the war/with Zuko as Fire Lord. It's starting off rather slow, so at this point it's probably not going to be at the top of your things-to-read list, but I thought I'd mention it because I included the idea in the notes of this fic.)


End file.
